


The Hanged Man

by kaige68



Series: Tarot [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, drinking to be drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frustration didn’t begin to cover it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hanged Man

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but I decided that I wanted to write based on what my tarot deck dealt me. And I also decided that they should be McChekov fics. I will not be writing the entire deck, I am hoping to arc together what I do write though. The first two fics are done, and are McCoy with little to no Chekov. Some fics will be based on the meaning behind specific card, some on the cards title, and some on the picture presented to me. Huge thanks to [](http://haldoor.livejournal.com/profile)[**haldoor**](http://haldoor.livejournal.com/) (and everyone over at [](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/)**1_million_words** ) for the cheerleading!
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is not my pool, I'm just playing in it.  
>  **Beta:** Read through quickly by [](http://haldoor.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://haldoor.livejournal.com/)**haldoor**. All remaining mistakes are mine alone. Con-crit is appreciated, and corrections are helpful.  
> 

Frustration didn’t begin to cover it. He was going nowhere at all. He was left with nothing.

When he married the woman he’d once referred to as his beloved wife, it had been great that she’d been so connected. It was going to do great things for him - for them - that her father was so well connected.

In his bad moments, he hoped she and her _Daddy_ died painful and pustulant deaths. In his better moments he … well, he preferred his bad moments.

Leonard McCoy was persona non grata at Daddy’s hospital. And Daddy’s hospital would not say a good thing about him. He had his school records, and nothing else. He’d met _Her_ in his residency under Daddy. The only facility who would talk to him now was StarFleet. And wasn’t she just giggling all the way home from her lawyer about that?

He sat in the rat trap bar two buildings down from his flea bag motel. He drank the cheapest swill that would keep him drunk on the little money he had left until the shuttle left for the Academy.

When he stumbled to bed at night, he missed his dog. That fact would probably speak volumes to him if he were sober. Missing the dog and not the wife.

He signaled the bartender for more. Limbo. Stasis. He contemplated the new ice and bourbon when it was set in front of him. Leonard wasn’t the sort of man who was competitive and wanted it all. He wanted comfort; he wanted to know his place, know his friends. He just wanted to be. And this, waiting, with nothing, was not comfortable.

“It’s time.” The bartender said to him. _Tim... Tom... Tag._ Damned if he could remember the man’s name. “You said to shut you off at noon today. Someplace you have to be tomorrow.” _Damn._ He had said that, hadn’t he? Making his way back to his last night in the hotel room, McCoy stopped for some pizza. Bready absorbent food, hot shower, and sleep. He wouldn’t look the way he felt when he climbed on the shuttle in the morning.

How was this what he had left? She’d left him nothing. He felt as if she’d stripped off his skin when she kicked him out. As though every meeting with her lawyer and father and judge and all the rest had pulled off more. His muscles, tendons, blood, bile. All that was left was what would be left years after he died.

Clean and sober, he climbed into bed. Ready and unready to face the morning. The flight to the academy, the years of further schooling, of officer training, of young enthusiastic cadets. He groaned as he turned out the lights.

They were taking him, without references, without extensive credentials, because he was a doctor, not a medic. Real doctors had a habit of staying on a planet. They didn’t join StarFleet to see what was out there. They didn’t help police and explore the systems. Medics joined StarFleet for education and adventure, then they came home and became doctors. Leonard McCoy was upside down in mid air.


End file.
